I did get this finished! Finally! It just haunted me until I got it ready, so well, here you are. Any questions, answered in iFAQ, second one at the bottom! yay!

Summer is coming which means I'm turning into a much nicer person. You might even be able to comment without your head bitten off :OOO

9. Fear

Where nightmares and insecurities are found and faced off

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned around to find Weasley standing behind him with a fierce scowl.

"Why, good morning, Weasley, I didn't know you were able to get yourself out of bed this early in the morning."

"Where did you go yesterday with Hermione?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"In all those fancy clothes! With Hermione, the pretty girl who talks to you without any common sense!"

"Aren't you delivering those compliments to the wrong person?" Draco enjoyed annoying Weasley even more than annoying Potter; the redhead was so easy to bait.

"Look, I know what you're trying to do, you deceiving little ferret, and you can be sure that I'll let anyone know if you try anything funny!"

"And you are telling this to me instead of them, because...?"

"You think you're so clever, winding the others around your poor, hurt little finger, but I know better. And keep away from Hermione, she is…"

"Weasley, I really don't care about your shallow love story, which you are screwing up quite spectacularly." Weasley spluttered at Draco's sniping. "Now if you will excuse me, I do not wish to be late," Draco ended and marched off haughtily.

He was lucky; he entered the training room just on time, Sensei only sporting a shadow of a frown, which was easily appeased by apology. The morning practises commenced and Draco revelled in the peace he gained from them. He felt as if he was a cat stroked in the wrong direction and now being soothed by a gentle caress.

:I would not call you a cat. Potter piped in, amused.

:Bugger off, Potter and let me concentrate in the exercise.

"Quite light, Potter-san, let the White Clane Splead Its Wings," Sensei snapped and Draco was allowed to stay in that quiet state for a blissful while.

"It is clear," said the Sensei, when they had finished, "that you are ploglessing vely well with your bonding. You can catch Malfoy-san's thoughts that he has not plojected, Potter-san?"

"Yes, occasionally."

"Have you succeeded in this, Malfoy-san?"

"Not yet," Draco scowled at Potter.

"You will soon, Malfoy-san, do not wolly. The next exercise will be diffelent flom the plepalotory ones you have been doing for the past thlee days, as these will include martial arts." Draco was immediately interested. The Sensei had been prohibiting them from fighting each other up till now.

"Now, let yourself sink into the meditative state, especially concentlating on all your sulloundings. Keep your eyes open, but do not focus on any particular point. Note the loom, the shapes of it and the space in which you could move. Now focus on the body sitting next to you."

It was so effortless. The shape of Potter sitting, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as air moved inside him and was pushed out again. The quiet beat of his heart and thrum of his blood and the way he moved his head ever so slightly. The way his right hand fingers rose, Seeker reflexes, and then when Sensei told them to rise, the push of the floor, almost clumsy and the loose, arrogant way he stood that irritated Draco, why was he arrogant, he was always in mortal danger, even now, every beat of his eyelid. And yet the boy stood in that arrogant manner and Draco's insides boiled and recoiled and snapped and Draco's arms flew forward before he knew it.

Potter seemed to have known, sidestepping lightly and letting his leg swing at Draco, but Draco had known that even before it happened and Draco lifted off with a flex of his legs and Potter was there again and Draco caught his shoulders to lift himself into the air, but Potter did not miss a beat, moved away when Draco reached ground and swung at him. And another move and recoil, a counter and an avoidance, leg, an arm, a finger, an eye, a thought, a dance and Draco knew not if the punch thrown was by his own hand or not and the moment stretched itself luxuriantly between them. The air condensed, filling their lungs with heavy breaths, and sparks danced on their skin and every space between them was too much and every breath should have been a shared one and Draco tried to close his eyes, but fingertips reached out to stop him and he was faced by a pair of blazing green.

"That will do, deshi."

The world rewound into existence suddenly, and Draco withdrew from Potter breathing heavily, eyeing the other with suspicion. Potter leant against his knees huffing. Draco was astonished; first time ever had they had a fight without pain. Draco found himself scared, which made no sense, because Draco was afraid of pain and not… nonpain. Pleasure.

"Very good, Malfoy-san, Potter-san. As you notice, you cannot hurt each other anymore; you know each other's movement too well for that. That tlance is called …"

But, Sensei was wrong, Draco realized. This was the fear of pain, Draco had lived his whole life hand in hand with it. Only this time it was larger than ever, turning the world crystal with adrenaline and Potter had a power to smash the world into sharp, shining shards.


Days went by and it wasn't until Wednesday that Draco was challenged about his avoidance of Potter any time else than the charged lessons.

"Draco, what's happened between you and Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"Running out of the room whenever Harry walks in, sitting as far away from him as possible, really, Draco, you're supposed to come closer with him during this training."

Draco tried mumbling something, but Hermione was one persistent hound.

"Is something wrong? I mean, did you fight, because Harry isn't that keen on being closer to you either and…"

"Hermione, are you together with Weasley?" Draco fired without any tact, but it was worth it when Hermione flushed a red to be envied by the Prince Charming in question.

"Well, uh."

"Because he is awfully protective about you, came storming at me the morning after we went to the disco."

"What? Did he see us?!"

"Apparently."

"Mourning Merlin! He hasn't said anything to me, which means he's in a serious mood about this too. He has been a little cold, but I was so busy with the research and I thought he was planning the attack…"

"Slow down, girl."

Hermione slumped into an armchair with a exasperated groan. "Me and Ron, well, we've known each other's feelings since after that idiot Lavender Brown affair. Or you could say Ron finally got hit in the face by them, it's been quite apparent forever…"

"There's been a popular bet in the Slytherin dorms since the Yule Ball on how long it would take until Weasel would get the courage to ask you out," Draco laughed.

"Exactly. But he hasn't yet. Not in the most real "Would you like to go out with me, Hermione?" way," Hermione pouted.

"Has he managed to snog you yet?" Draco asked trying to keep the obvious glee out of his voice.

"Oh, yes, whenever we find ourselves alone."

"Hmm. Look, Hermione, I know all the etiquette better than anyone, but I seriously think this is a position in which you should ignore it and just get him. Other option is to have a massive row about it."

"We're good at that," Hermione told him and glanced at the antique clock, "Oh no, you're going to be late!"

"What? Oh, hell, Sensei'll have my skin as her doormat!"

Draco rushed into the Training Room, forcing his body almost fly with the help of magic.

"It is good to see you find use for our tlaining, Malfoy-san," the Sensei said dryly as Draco gasped his apologies.

"As I was telling Potter-san, we will learn the art of Patlonus this aftelnoon." Draco gulped. "Potter-san has informed me that he knows the charm, which will simplify things. Are we so lucky that you, Malfoy-san, also have this skill?"

Of course Draco knew the Patronus charm. He had been practising it fiercely ever since Potter had achieved a corporeal Patronus and succeeded in one only last year, with the increased danger of Dementors. The only thing was that he was not happy about showing it to anyone, least of all Potter.

"Well, err, yes, actually, I am capable of producing a Patronus."

"Splendid! The Oliental version will lequire some thought flom both of you, as the Western Magic cuts many corners by not forming the corpoleality itself, only forcing it to exist by pure power. The basics are similar of course. We shall start flom the meditative state, it will be easier to concentlate."

Draco pushed his feelings of insecurity away and slowed down his breathing. It would not do to anger the Sensei again; he had been lucky that she hadn't given her extra workout already.

"Now bling yourself into the emotional state lequired."

Draco searched for the good memories. He found the selection sad and scarce. The ones he had used previously were childhood memories always including his mother, others were daydreams of him beating Potter, and neither were very inviting. He dug deeper, and came up with nothing better. Frustrated, he began to cast around randomly, and bumped into the present day. He was happier, he realized, than ever before, even with everything gone wrong. He had someone he could call a friend in the Gryffindor sense, he found peace in the training and pleasure in decorating and that night at the Muggle disco had been one of his best.

He locked onto the memory just on time, as the Sensei started the instruction on forming corporeality. It wasn't that hard, especially since he knew what his Patronus looked like. On the word he released the energy and opened his eyes.

There, before his eyes, was his Patronus. It opened its small mouth and gnashed its teeth, scampering away. Compared to Potter's magnificent stag, which pranced majestically, it looked small and weak and ridiculous.

"Malfoy, that's a dragon!"

"A hatchling, Potter."

The silver dragon in question tried to nip at the passing hart's heels and fell over disgracefully.

"But it's a dragon!"

"Yes, and your Patronus is twenty times larger than mine!"

Potter gawked at the winged lizard as if he had never seen a dragon before. As it flapped it's wings in frustration at the hart, which danced circles around it, Draco remembered the conclusion his father had become to.

Your mother and I, he had written, are very proud of your achievement. It represents how you feel grateful of our legacy, and how you feel protected by us. I am in no doubt the beast shall reach its maturity quite soon.

He had always adored his father's letters. Always so loving and congratulating and warm, weren't they?

"Sensei, is there a chance that Malfoy's Patronus can grow?"

"Oh yes, it isn't that rare that young wizards first ploduce a juvenile version of the animal their Patlonus takes form of. They eventually become fullglown, after the person in question has solved a emotional ploblem or leached some kind of milestone in their life."

Potter was over-enthusiastic about Draco's Patronus. He kept gushing about it in the most annoying way and when he began talking about it at dinner, Draco was sick and tired about his Patronus. Potter, however, was not stopped by Draco's coldness and nagged him until he had to produce the Patronus on the dinnertable.

"Isn't it a darling!" Hermione sighed at the small creature stumbling over the table. "Do you know which breed it is, Draco?"

"Looks weak to me," Weasley grumbled and shot a malicious glance at Draco, who was telling Hermione that it had all the characteristics of a Welsh Green.

"Imagine how big it will be when it's full-grown!" Potter said excitedly.

"Not that big if it's a Welsh Green, Charlie told me they rarely go over three tons," Weasley told him, keeping a narrowed eye at Hermione who had called upon her own Patronus, which was now hurdling towards the baby dragon in hope of a game.

"It would certainly give Dementors some fright!"

"What's wrong with you, Harry? Fawning over the Ferret's Patronus as if it were the greatest thing in existence!" Weasley exploded at his friend.

"What's wrong with YOU!?" Potter yelled back. Draco had never seen Potter this furious. Magic was practically crackling through out the room and Draco was sure the Flow was being twisted into ribbons. "Malfoy here has been on perfectly good behaviour for two months! He has actually become friendly! And you still keep going at him! After all he's been through! You should be ashamed yourself!" Draco winced. So now he was Potter's pity case. Fantastic.

"Oh yeah? What about last Friday when he snuck out with Hermione in fancy clothes?" Weasley had guts, Draco admitted as he shrank down by the pressure of Potter's enraged magic.

"What about it? Hermione explained it to me and Sensei approved it and Malfoy needs fresh air too!" One of the glasses cracked. "And it is not Malfoy's fault that Hermione likes to be with him, you should blame yourself for not asking Hermione out."

"Does Potter do this often?" Draco whispered to Hermione who was picking at her chicken.

"When he gets really frustrated, yes," Hermione told him calmly, "Harry's never had any anger management skills at all."

"And people haven't died?" Draco squeaked as a pot started rattling ominously.

"Er, no, it's not as if… Great Merlin!" This was a reaction to the fact that the whole room began to rattle and move. "He has to calm down. Harry! Harry! Ron!"

The basement was empty except for them, as the whole Order was somewhere doing something important. Even Molly wasn't there, and Draco quickly calculated the time in which the Sensei could be got into the kitchen.

"Draco! Can't you restrain him or something?" Hermione snapped at him.

Oh, that was an option too. Draco turned quickly to Potter who was still screaming red at Weasley.

"Potter, this is quite too much, thank you for standing up for me and so on, but…" did not have any effect. Draco gathered himself and tried to sink to a meditative state so he could talk into Potter's mind. The Flow was indeed writhing in the unhealthiest way around Potter's vortex and Draco found he couldn't reach Potter by magic. That only left one option and Draco hated putting himself in front of the firing line.

Breathing deeply in he flew a fist at Potter's head. Surprisingly it made contact, but Potter managed to give into it so he wasn't even bruised. Whipping around, he snarled and kicked high at Draco's chest. Draco was ready for it and slipped under the spinning leg, trying to trip him, but Potter knew it and he grabbed at Draco's neck. Draco had already rolled away from him and a foot moved into stop him and Draco caught it and pushed Potter away. The pace was faster than before, and Potter was clearly not thinking straight. Draco prodded at Potter's thoughts and they were there, without any protection, boiling and toiling in a confused mess.

Anger filtered through it at whole, and Draco wondered at that, because he could not see the reasons for it. Probing deeper he found himself. There was not any pity, as Draco had feared. Neither was there any hate or disgust or anything that there should have been.

Draco blinked in astonished shock and drew away, only narrowly preventing Potter from throwing him over. The shock was not the only reaction Draco had. A flame sparked inside Draco, warming him throughout. Draco did not like the idea at all. His house had always been cold.

:Potter! Get a bloody hold of yourself!

:Shut up, Malfoy.

:If you stop wrecking the kitchen up!

Potter blinked and stopped flailing at Draco.

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say about it?" Draco snapped at him. The mess wasn't that bad, a few glasses had broken and a spindly chair had broken as the result of Potter kicking at it when he missed Draco.

"And you better fix the cocoa pot!" Draco snarled, and pointed at jar that had a big crack in its side, spilling brown powder out of it. He then turned on his heels and marched out.


"Tonight, we go for a fieldtlip," Sensei announced one morning a few days after the kitchen incident. Draco was still angry at Sensei, who had calmly told them the next day that she had been perfectly aware of the upheaval, but found that Draco had taken care of it so well that she hadn't needed to bother come down. Draco was a little appeased by the thorough scolding Potter had received.

"Where to?" Potter asked.

"We are going Dementor hunting."

"What?"

"Dementor hunting. It shall be good plactise."

Draco could feel Potter swallowing the question "Are you mad?" and the Sensei eagerly prattled on about the positive attributes practising with Dementors gave. Draco was more interested in how they were going to prevent bumping into any Death Eaters.


Draco was feeling very jumpy as they Apparated into some forsaken meadow outside London. The field was flooded with silver mist and Draco tried to mislead his mind into comparing the mist's dreamy swirling to the bending of the Flow. There was a fascinating similarity and yet some very baffling inconsistencies.

If I ever manage to be free again, I will devote my life to the study of the Flow and it's effect on the physical world, he vowed to himself.

:You would be bored to death.

:You should worry about Dementors, Potter, instead of my thoughts. This place stinks of them.

:Maybe I prefer not to think about them for as long as I can.

The Sensei shushed them, and closed her eyes in concentration. A faint happy feeling surrounded them.

"What was that?" Draco asked.

"A diluted Patlonus charm, very useful for catching the attention of Dementors, as they are drawn to positive feelings and yet it is not too thleatening."

And only a nutter wants to do that, Draco caught from Potter.

:Still afraid to death of them?

:Always.

"While we wait, let us do a warming exercise." Sensei misinterpreted Potter violent shudder. "Calm your mind and enter a tlance. Let the Flow circulate into you, and let it warm you up."

Draco obliged and felt blessed warmth circulate into him. Even his fingers that could not be warmed by charmed mittens warmed up. Oh, if he would have known this magic in the freezing dungeons of Hogwarts.

"Now do it without the tlance," the Sensei directed.

On the eighth repetition the warmth did not warm up Draco's fingers. Before he had time to think that he had done something wrong, Potter drew a sharp breath. Dementors. Draco's blood froze and Potter's body was generating illegal amounts of adrenaline.

:Don't wet yourself now, Potter.

Potter had time to throw him a dirty look amidst his search for the Dark Creatures.

Draco was first to spot one, gliding towards them behind Potter's back. With warning from Draco, Potter spun around and grabbed for his wand.

"Potter-san! You do not need to use your wand!"

Fighting the depression that seeped from the foul thing, Draco summoned his hatchling, which loyally scrambled to attack the towering figure.

"Potter! I could use a hand here!" he snapped at the other boy.

"I'm trying, you prick," Potter grinded through his teeth and soon the majestic hart cantered out to fend off the Dementor.

"There are more coming!" Draco called and directed his Patronus at a group that was trying to close in by a blind spot.

"Denshi, I lecommend you communicate by ishindenshin, it is much more effective," the Sensei guided them serenely.

: I really think it would be much nicer if she offered more effort than talk! Potter told Draco and guided the silver stag at a new group. They're flocking around too fast for my taste!

:Scared of a few scarecrows, Potter?

:As if you're not. Watch your left!

Draco admitted that there was a sense of children crowding to a sweet shop with special sales. If children would be cloaked in dingy black sheets and groping for happiness with rotting claws.

"Sensei! The bait spell isn't up anymore is it?"

"No, Malfoy-san. It only seems that there were quite many Dementors in the hundled mile radius."

Potters groan was championship qualified, came a thought out of nowhere as cold sweat began to run down his spine.

"Sensei, you do know that Dementor numbers have grown explosively in Britain since the return of the Dark Lord?"

"Of course. Keep your focus, Malfoy-san! Your patlonus seems to be fading."

Sure enough the hatchling gave one last hiss at a Dementor and vanished. Draco gulped and attempted round up his courage, but all his brain could offer him was "Your mother is dead and your father is in prison and the Dark Lord wants you dead and all your friends are all thumbs at the prospect. You're stuck with the Order of the Phoenix and your worst enemy Harry Potter, and it is all doomed. And Muggles will kill all the wizards and everyone will die and there would be no blue skies to fly, because you have failed the cause and betrayed your master and the world of magic…!"

A scream interrupted the stampede of his thoughts. And though Potter was on his knees, it could not have been him; the scream was a woman's. Sensei was tight-lipped and her eyes were fixed on a silver tiger driving off a lake of black.

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy…have mercy…" a sob was heard. And then the cold, cold laughter of the Dark Lord. He was here! Draco whipped around waiting to see red eyes burning from under the black hoods. The screaming began again, a bloodcurdling duet with the demonic laughter.

With the green flash Draco suddenly understood. Potter was hearing the murder of his parents with such strength that they leaked into Draco's mind too. Potter's hands were squeezed over his lightning scar. He would faint any minute now from the emotional distress.

A new wave of laughter from memories seeped in, this time marked with Potter's panic.

Something changed. Not anything you could actually notice, but Draco was sure of it. Things were changed.

Turning to the black tidal wave yearning for Potter's soul, he opened his arms and let the magic out. The silver dragon burst amongst the Dementors with fervour, spouting flames and flailing it's limbs, rising upon it's wings when the dark mass turned to flee.

When they were gone, it returned and took one deep look into the equally silver eyes of it's master gazing up at it and then melted into the mist of the meadow.


Harry woke up with screams throbbing in the back of his head and green flashes dancing a death dance across his eyelids. Knowing it was hopeless trying to get back to sleep, he slid out of his beds smiling at Ron's snore and slipped out of the door.

Harry was good at nightly wandering and nowadays his legs knew how to walk away by themselves, leaving the mind to calm down from the death moments of his parents.

The near silent pad of his foods against the old, smooth floorboards chased the screams away and gradually his muscles let go of the bones they were trying to shutter.

Cursing Dementors, he let the images sink away from his eyes. Another image rose to replace it, a picture of an enormous silver dragon towering over a sea of swirling black, roaring silently and sending a dreamy fire amongst the terror. A silhouette of angles and straight edges against the silver storm forming a shadow of extreme elegance, cut out of the light by some secret artist. A sudden flame of white, when hair caught the light, a golden trace of nonexistent fire.

Malfoys hair wasn't actually silver. It was more of a white gold; a golden gleam hiding in the pure white.

"Whozzair?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't notice, I just had a bad dream and wandered, and…" Harry notied too late that his feet had taken him into Malfoys room.

"Shuddup, sleep."

"Oh, yes, sorry, I'll be going…"

"Shu'up, Po'er, ge'in 'n' sleep!"

"What?"

Malfoy mumbled something into his pillow, rolled against the wall and lifted the edge of the blankets.

"Shut up. Get in. Sleep. Shut up."

Harry shuffled around awkwardly; he couldn't sleep beside Malfoy…

"Now!" And Harry found himself in Malfoys bed.

Malfoy was already fast asleep, his quiet breathing slowing down into an impossibly slow rate, a long pause between every inhalation.

Harry was stiff as dead, shocked to find himself in someone else's bed, on top of that a boy's, above all Malfoy's bed. He had never, ever slept in the same bed with anyone, not since a time that is impossible to remember. And now he was lying next to Malfoy.

But before he was able to panic, his weary body sunk into Malfoy's mattress that was much softer than Harry's. The soft breathing behind him calmed him down swiftly and soon Harry felt a last thought before slumber, bound to be forgotten from its very birth.

It's not bad, sleeping next to Malfoy.


iFAQ

Q. What was the word Sensei thought when she was mentally conversing with Draco?

Answ. tsundere (1) being on the surface sharp and sarcastic (tsuntsun) but underneath lovestruck and fawning (deredere)(2) normally being sharp but at some prompt suddenly becoming lovestruck hot-cold personality type

Q. Where did you get that white jacket black trousers stuff for Draco?

Answ. See the backstreet boys first album cover. Ik. It's –97 fashion, don't accuse me.

Q: What do you do when you don't know what to write or get stuck or have a problem with the fic or--?

Answ.Ask the Bible of course! D'uh! No really, I open the Bible, poke my finger and see what it says. The problem is that the answers are never clear and I don't have any idea what eg. "Jacob had seven brothers" has to do with shall I get Draco kiss Harry now or in a few chapters. But God has the answers, and all that jazz, so there must be some sense in it!

Q. What is Sensei talking about when she says "let the White Clane Splead Its Wings"?

Answ. One Tai chi form is called White Crane Spreads Its Wings. If you really are interested further, don't ask me, go ask Wikipedia.

Q. Ch. 9: scene 2 Days went by, and it wasn't until Wednesday... maybe it's just me, but how long has it been, then, if it's Wed now?

Answ. It has been since Saturday. And that is days, isn't it?

Q. Isn't Harry a little OOC when he gushes about Draco's Patronus?

Answ. If he actually had been as adamant as described, I would say more than little. This is however one of the points where Draco's POV takes artistic allowances.

Q. But WHY a Welsh Green? isn't that a little too common?

Answ. Racked my brain with this I did. The problem was, a) Draco had to have something to do with drgons and his Animagus wasn't one, so his Patronus had to be b) that it preferably should be something domestic, because there is no way Draco could have anything to with Norway, or even Hungary. Then I came up with points c) that how many people actually even have a dragon for a Patronus, so he is elitist with that and after all d) Draco is a rather common elitist. So Welsh Green. If you find any flaws, come tell me I'm wrong.